Secret Agents E

One, two. Gilchie Simpson. Shout out my mans Jippy, you know? What up, though? I be like, "Oh, shit." Yo, got my affairs in order, now I'm a Champagne poet. Can't force ya, can't make a horse drink the Water. Watching my family lose is something like Torture. The game is free, but down the line, It's gon' cost you dearly. Your fake can't sit near me. My peers be watching me win yearly. I'm not the hang-around type, I'm a hustler. And loitering with y'all is fucking with my Customers. I'm over that, the lazy ones'll hold you Back. Just know that I would never go for That like Hall & Oates. I'm who some call the GOAT. They repeat what I wrote and know all the Quotes. And I appreciate it. They say I'm too when I'm inebriated. Center stage with the people praising. Paranoid, some move around like they secret agents. Instigating, seeking payments, let's go. Detroit radio. Yo, what up, though? It's Fat Cat, AKA Ronnie Euro. Detroit representative. Worldwide. What up, Gil? Let's get it. The most underrated, behind my back, The most hated. Passive-aggressive peasants, So I know y'all never say it. Detroit's finest, my lines be timeless, Still killing them with kindness. Light so bright, it increase the blindness. Rappers used to come to the shop looking to Props, then be scared to get out the sauce Pan. The place where whole crews get ate up Like a bag of pork rinds. Your whole style is bland with no sauce or Seasoning. Don't talk me to death, save your breath For all the reasoning. You're just a worker, Go get your boss and don't cuff. I crush all the dreams you believe in. It's nothing. You blossom suckers just constantly Bluffing. Soft like a warm, fresh pan of blueberry Muffins. Stuff turkeys with all the stuffing. Fine ladies we cuffing. A head crack is what you get when you Talk that tough shit. Silly rabbits got stuck for all your carrots and Cabbage. You fucking with some pros with skills way Beyond average. I'm from the hood, but that don't Make me no savage. Put these paws on you still if you really Want static. Great bodily harm literally with no Malice. Welcome to my diner, I'm the owner and You're Alice. Yeah. And what's that big seven or eight-foot giant there? What's that? Oh, an amplifier. Contains, uh, Eight 12-inch speakers and, uh, two 15s, Four horns. Gee, that's a big thing. 300 watts RMS. Wow, you can really light a Fire with that, I bet, huh? Yeah, we're afraid To fire it up in here. Might break all The windows and stuff, yeah